


Out of your shell

by hit_the_books



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 14, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Christmas, Love Confessions, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Mutual Pining, Sex Toys, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21849886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: Does it take finding a tortoise on a hunt to finally bring these two wacky kids together?Probably not, but it is definitely the season for whiskey theft and confessions.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 130
Collections: Holiday Mixtape 2019





	Out of your shell

**Author's Note:**

> Glad to have taken part in the SPN Holiday Mixtape again C:
> 
> Thanks to [treefrogie84](https://archiveofourown.org/users/treefrogie84) for taking the time to beta this story for me.
> 
> Happy Holidays all!

Beady dark eyes stared up at Dean. He lowered the shotgun he’d been carrying, thinking the rustling sound he’d heard was something more sinister. But with its shiny, patchwork shell and tiny pink mouth, Dean was pretty certain the tortoise wasn’t a monster. He just looked like a tortoise in a garage who had been incredibly put out.

“Sorry about that,” Dean said, glancing to his gun, “didn’t mean nothing by it.”

The tortoise blinked and continued to observe Dean. The reptile was perched on something, looking over the side of a small wooden crate. There was lots of straw inside the crate and Dean huffed out a breath and realized how warm it had grown in the garage.

Behind Dean were the charred remains of a picnic basket that a ghost had managed to set on fire. Since it hadn’t shown up in three minutes and nobody was screaming, the ghost was hopefully an ex-ghost now. _Should probably check on that, actually…_

“Dean?” Sam called. Then Sam, Cas, and Jack were crowding into the garage. No one seemed too damaged from the ghost. The owners of the house were not so fortunate, killed by a not-at-rest babysitter who died here years ago. She had been cremated, but apparently some of her had still lingered.

“You all fine?” Dean asked, standing beside the tortoise’s crate and looking towards the other three.

“The fireplace will need a rework,” Cas offered, then squinted at the crate. “Is that a tortoise?”

“Yes. So Alice Myers has been handled?”

“Shouldn’t it be hibernating?” Jack asked with a tone like he was recalling something from the Discovery Channel.

“Uh,” Sam stepped up to the crate and peered inside. “Looks like a Hermann’s Tortoise, so yes.”

Dean turned to Sam, mouth agape. “Serial killers not enough? Seriously, dude!”

“What?” Sam shrugged. “I read.”

“We are not getting into this right now. Look, we can’t leave the tortoise here.” Dean looked to Sam, Cas and Jack. “If he was meant to be hibernating, then do we put him back to sleep?”

Sam rubbed at the back of his neck, a thoughtful look on his face. “I… don’t think so. I think it’s not healthy to try and put it back into hibernation. Its metabolic processes have started up again and all that.”

“We can’t leave it here,” Dean pointed out.

“The vivarium got trashed while we were dealing with Alice’s spirit.”

_Oh, to hell with it_. “We’ll bring ‘em home. Get it checked out by a veterinarian on the way, and then pick up what we need after.”

Sam looked at Dean like he’d grown two heads. Cas quirked an eyebrow.

Jack stepped forward and met the tortoise’s gaze. “Can we call them… Monty?”

“Monty works,” Dean agreed, picking up Monty’s crate. “Sam, think you can research how we care for Monty?”

“Sure.”

Cas looked at Dean, crystal blue eyes securitizing every inch of his being. Like Dean really had grown two heads. Dean felt almost naked and then looked away, cheeks a little warm.

“Jack, think you can find the nearest veterinary practice?” Dean asked as he stepped towards the door that led to the mud room.

Sam looked up from his cell that he had already pulled out. “It’s going to be too cold for Monty outside, we need to find something to help keep them warm.”

Cas nodded his head and darted past Dean. “I’ll find one of those pocket warmers in the glove compartment.”

Dean’s blush deepened. He thought no one knew about his pocket warmer supply. They were handy for stakeouts or just cold nights in general when you didn’t have anyone else to warm you up. Dean looked at Cas’s retreating back longer than was entirely necessary.

***

Monty, a he according to the veterinarian they’d seen, settled in nicely to life in the Bunker. The vivarium they’d bought was glass on the front and lid, and wood around the sides and the back. It was plenty big and had a heat lamp inside. They’d placed it in the kitchen, as it was usually warm in there.

A week after Monty had moved in, Sam had managed to fashion a portable vivarium for when they did go on hunts. They never let anyone clean their motel rooms, so they concluded that he should be able to stay in a room undisturbed if necessary. The portable vivarium had some complex light and battery rig. If they thought a hunt was going to take a long ass while, Jody had already called dibs on looking after Monty.

And while they’d been settling into life with a pet tortoise, Dean had decked the halls and been buying presents. It was going to be the first Christmas they’d all spend together. While Dean had been sure what to get Sam and Jack, even Monty, Cas was proving difficult.

_What the heck do you buy an angel anyway?_ Dean thought, whiskey tumbler between his fingers. It was the day before Christmas Eve. Sam had already gone to bed, Jack too. Cas was somewhere in the library reading up on kelpies, because he’d seen something that could be a case. Rather than look at more books and feel Cas’s penetrating stare whenever he shifted in his seat, Dean had gone to the kitchen to drink and keep Monty company.

Dean, looked over to Monty and sighed. “Don’t suppose you got any gift giving ideas? Tips on buying for an angel?” Dean took another sip of whiskey and sucked in a breath at the burn running down his throat. “I mean, it’s not like Cas has ever been one for material possessions. That damn tie and coat are about all he cares for. Would he like a new tie? Like… what do angels want? What does Cas want?”

“Why don’t you ask _Cas_?” a gravelly voice called from the doorway.

Dean’s stomach flipped and he looked up at Cas. Cas gave him a wry smile, and sat down opposite. He reached out and plucked Dean’s drink from his hand and glugged the remaining finger down.

“Cas, wha-” before Dean could finish, Cas had hauled Dean halfway over the kitchen table and was kissing him. The warmth of the whiskey Cas had just swallowed filled Dean, causing him to open his mouth and go licking after the taste as Cas opened to him.

Breaking the kiss, Cas smiled and let go of Dean’s shirt. He stepped around the table and leaned over Dean, crowding into his space. “Does that give you an idea of what to get me for Christmas?” Cas whispered in his ear.

Dean gulped. His mind was firing all over the place, years of repressed longing singing through him, quieting the doubt that always stopped him, held him back. Sure there had been signs before that Cas was interested in being more, all of which Dean had decided were just him seeing something that wasn’t there, but now knew otherwise. Finally, he got himself together enough to nod.

“Good.” Cas leaned in closer and softly pressed a kiss to Dean’s cheek before wandering away.

Dean watched him leave and then, once Cas was gone, let out a long shaky breath. “Welp,” Dean looked over to Monty, “I now know what Cas wants for Christmas.”

***

Christmas Eve saw Dean flitting further afield than Lebanon, getting supplies he hadn’t realized he was going to need.

And then some.

When he finally looked at the bags gathered on his bed, he swallowed. _Maybe I’m moving too fast?_ Dean thought, eyes landing on one particular glossy bag. _It’s not like we’ve talked this through._

Memories of long showers and stolen moments alone flitted through Dean’s thoughts and he felt himself growing hard. He willed himself to calm down, because in a moment, he was going to have to ask Sam to make himself and Jack scarce over part of Christmas Day.

It wasn’t that Dean was nervous about the entire cornucopia of things that he and Cas could get up to. He’d had the odd hook up with a guy in the past and things had gotten pretty adventurous with Lisa back in the day.

But he was having doubts and doubts were something Dean knew he really shouldn’t ignore. Still, first he had to get Sam and Jack out of the Bunker long enough that Cas and Dean didn’t end up embarrassing themselves.

Feeling calmer, Dean left his room and headed down the hall to Sam’s. From inside he could hear something that sounded suspiciously modern rock-y. _Not here to judge, here to ask a favor_ , Dean reminded himself and pushed down the comment that had been forming on his lips as he knocked on Sam’s door.

The music volume lowered and Sam opened his door, peering at Dean around it, eyes narrowed. Sam cleared his throat, “What’s up?”

“Need you and Jack to maybe head out for a few hours tomorrow. Before dinner.” Dean gave Sam an awkward smile.

Sam quirked an eyebrow and studied Dean more closely. “What’s going on?”

“Uh…. Just stuff.”

“What about Cas?”

Dean really didn’t want to say it out loud yet and jinx the whole thing, but… “He’s staying here.” Dean swallowed hard.

“Oh.” Sam opened his bedroom door a little wider. “Okay… I’ll take Jack to… We’ll go build snowmen and then get hot chocolate or something. You can, um… text me when it’s safe to head back.”

“Thanks, Sammy.”

Sam slapped Dean’s arm. “It’s about time.”

Without further ado, Sam stepped back and closed his bedroom door in Dean’s face. _Two down, one to go,_ Dean thought as he headed for the library where Cas was still researching kelpies.

“Hey,” Dean greeted.

Cas put down the book he was reading and looked up at Dean. “Dean.”

“Can we talk?” Dean asked nervously.

“Of course.” Cas motioned to the empty seat across from him.

Dean sat down. “So, about tomorrow… what’s uh… what’s on the table?”

Cas squinted at Dean. “I don’t understand.”

Dean’s mouth was growing dry. “What… do… you… want to… do?”

A hungry look crossed Cas’s face. “You,” he answered finally, deep voice rumbling through Dean’s bones.

Dean had to will his dick down, he needed to be able to walk away in a moment. “I thought as much. I want that too.”

“Good.”

“I’ll call you, when um, when it’s time. Tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Dean got up and quickly stalked out of the room. He was going to need a cold shower before bed.

***

Dean had been given the all clear by Sam over an hour ago. But Dean hadn’t called Cas, not yet. He’d been busy that morning, cleaning and preening himself. Making sure he was ready for something he had wanted for a very, very long time.

There’d be time enough for all the foreplay in the world, but for the past twenty-four hours, Dean had had one thing on his mind and he wanted to get straight to that main event. Naked, hard and leaking, a Santa hat on his head and a red bow tied to the base of his cock, Dean knelt on his bed and clenched his ass. He felt the extra pressure of the plug he’d left there and tried not to focus on it too much, lest he spoiled Castiel’s present.

“Cas!” Dean called, knowing the angel would be able to hear him.

Moments passed and finally Dean heard the sure steps of Cas, heading towards his room. Cas knocked on his door.

“It’s open,” Dean said.

Cas opened the door and closed it behind him, before turning to take in the sight of Dean. Castiel’s mouth fell open a little and Dean felt his already flushed cheeks warm up more as Cas ate him up with his eyes.

“Dean,” Cas nearly whispered. “May I touch you?” he asked more clearly.

“Yes.”

Cas stripped his own clothes off, making a messy pile on the floor, before stalking over to the bed and carefully climbing on top of it. He knelt in front of Dean, hands poised an inch away before reaching out. He cupped Dean’s jaw with one hand and his other went to the bow on Dean’s cock.

“You’re perfect,” Cas murmured, kissing Dean’s mouth. “Perfect in every single way,” he continued, expertly pulling the bow loose and free from Dean’s cock. Cas’s hand curled around Dean’s length and he began to stroke Dean, smearing pre-come as he did. Leaning closer as he worked Dean over, Castiel’s growing hardness brushed the top of Dean’s thigh.

“Cas!” Dean gasped, knees wobbling as Cas pumped him, and then opened his mouth. Castiel’s tongue was commanding and firm in Dean’s mouth as he licked in and owned every inch of Dean.

Without warning, Castiel’s strong grip was gone from Dean’s cock, but before he could cry out at the loss, he was moaning as Cas found the base of the plug in Dean’s ass. Reaching around Dean’s legs, Cas pressed the plug deeper. He then started to kiss and nip at Dean’s neck.

“You’ve been busy,” Cas observed, pressing the plug and angling it just so that it brushed that sensitive bundle of nerves inside of Dean.

He cried and pushed back. “Yes!”

“May I have me present now, Dean?” Cas asked in a calm voice at odds with the urgency of his fingers.

“Yes! Please!” Dean pleaded. “Fuck… Just… Fuck me, please, Cas!”

Cas brought their mouths together, smiling as he kissed Dean and worked the plug from Dean’s ass. Before Dean could complain about being empty, Cas spun him around and pushed him down, making his ass go up in the air. Cas found the bottle of lube Dean had left to one side, and he heard Cas squirting some out before he coated himself.

“You look amazing, Dean,” Cas said as he lined himself up. He stroked the middle of Dean’s back. “Relax.”

And then Cas was pushing into Dean, hard and heavy, slowly sinking in until he bottomed out. Dean drew in a long shuddering breath as he adjusted to Castiel’s size, the burn just on the right side of pleasant.

“Ready?” Cas asked then pressed a kiss to Dean’s back.

“Do it,” Dean begged.

Cas drew his hips back and then pushed into Dean. Then again, but faster. Again. And again, picking up speed each time. Until his hips were snapping against Dean, wet, filthy noises issuing from between them. If Dean had been close after preparing himself for Cas, he was on the brink now, knowing he could come any moment. The Santa hat finally slipped off Dean’s head.

Over and over, Cas nailed Dean’s prostate.

“Perfect. So perfect! The way you fit around me,” Cas nearly growled. His hands dug into Dean’s hips as he kept him in place. The bed shook with their movement, banging against the wall, as the air became infused with the smell of their sweat and want.

“Fuck, Cas… I’m… Fuck…. Please…” Dean cried. He wanted to come, needed to come. He’d tortured himself for nearly thirty minutes before Cas arrived after all. He moaned and panted, wanting release so much.

“Come for me, Dean!” Cas finally ordered, hips slapping against Dean, hands never letting go.

Dean shouted and pushed right back against Cas, meeting his hips as he finally spilled across his sheets and stomach. Cas wasn’t long after Dean, fucking into him just as things started to get sensitive and then coming with a shout in what might have been Enochian.

The two of them fell sideways onto the bed, narrowly missing the pool of Dean’s come. Cas slipped out of Dean, but he wrapped his arms around Dean tight, holding him like he never wanted to let go again. He pressed a kiss into the back of Dean’s neck.

“Thank you,” Cas said in a tired but happy voice.

“Gah, c'mere,” Dean mumbled, turning in Castiel’s arms and kissing him once he found his mouth. It was long and sure, as Dean tried to tell Cas that this wasn’t just a one off. That they were cuddling should have been enough for Cas to see that this was for more than just Christmas.

“Dean…” Cas started when they finally broke the kiss, “I…”

“I know… I love you too.” Dean pressed a kiss to Castiel’s forehead and then pulled a blanket over them. He trusted Cas to keep an eye on the time while he napped for a while.

***

The smell of fresh doughnuts woke Dean up from his nap. He could hear voices and when he realized he wasn’t in Castiel’s arms any more, or that the angel was no longer in the bed, he panicked, until-

“Dean always says you can’t cook!” Cas called down the hallway. The bedroom door opened and Dean looked up to see Cas carrying a plate of homemade doughnuts. What surprised him more were the sweats and t-shirt of Dean’s that Cas was wearing.

“You’re awake,” Cas observed, smile playing across his face. “Here.” He sat down on the bed beside Dean and wafted the doughnuts under his nose.

“Sam made these?” Dean asked in surprise.

Cas nodded, picking up a cinnamon and sugar covered doughnut and then taking a bite out of it. “Mmmm, they’re good.”

Dean scooted up, feeling a twinge in his ass, and then took a doughnut, careful not to get sugar all over his bed. He took a bite, closing his eyes and let out a low long moan as the fluffy doughy goodness rolled out over his tongue.

Opening his eyes again, Dean found Cas looking at him darkly.

“What?” Dean asked, licking sugar from his lips.

“If you’re not careful, we’ll have to send Sam, Jack, _and_ Monty away from the Bunker,” Cas said.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading. Kudos and comments appreciated.
> 
> You can find me on Pillowfort at [dreamsfromthebunker](https://www.pillowfort.social/dreamsfromthebunker), Dreamwidth at [hit_the_books](https://hit-the-books.dreamwidth.org/), Tumblr at [hitthebooksposts](https://hitthebooksposts.tumblr.com/).


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